


Sansides Collection: Dom/Sub

by Aerianna



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Dom Deceit Sanders, Dom Logic | Logan Sanders, Dom/sub, Dominant Logan Sanders, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Implied Nudity, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Sexual Bondage, Non-Sexual Submission, Sub Roman Sanders, Submission, Suits, dominant deceit sanders, submissive roman sanders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2020-07-09 05:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19882519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerianna/pseuds/Aerianna
Summary: Self-indulgent dom/sub fics. No sexual content as of now, simply someone taking control for someone else. Pure self-indulgence. I hope you enjoy reading these ficlets as much as I enjoy writing them!Now taking requests!(As long as they aren't Prinxiety or Patton ships, please. ^-^)





	1. Roceit: Blindfold

There was nothing in front of him. Not the ceiling, not the floor, not the closet, not the door. There was only a blackness, an overwhelming expanse of _nothing_ brought about by a singly, solitary object. But it did not get there by itself. No, the silk blindfold was tied over his eyes with a whisper, a croon, with too-cold hands covered in gloves. Praises, promises of pleasure pulled him into restraints, tying him to where his love wanted him. And for his compliance, he earned murmured praise and light touches upon his face. 

Outside of the blindfold, such a situation would be humiliating.

But inside, there was no need to hide. No need to pretend, or _lie_ , that he was someone other than who he was. Inside, there was no crown, title, kingdom, brother. There was only calm, quiet, blindness, lover. He could be who he was. What he was made to be. The only thing that truly mattered, inside.

"Tell me what you are, _Roman_ ," his lover ordered. A cool glove reached through the silence to touch his flesh. The only thing he could possibly do was lean up to show his gratitude, to take what was offered.

"I am- I'm yours, Master."

"Good. So good, darling. I am so _proud_ of you. Can you say it again for me? Without stuttering this time."


	2. Please | Logince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who only remembered they had this account while looking for Roceit content at 2 am? :''') Oops.   
> But on the bright side, I'm back! Take some Logince content. ^-^

The living room was the same as usual: Warmly lit, mostly clean, and the perfect place for a movie night. When Roman walked in, it felt just like normal. Nothing to take note of, safe for the fact that no one was there. But there was someone there. And when he noticed, after one step more, he had to stop. His heart froze, as did the air around him. Then his treacherous heart ran away inside his chest, breaking the frozen stillness, and the atmosphere changed.

Logan was not in his usual place. No, he was on the couch, serving as the throne for a king never allowed to rule. Gone was the button-up black shirt and dark jeans, the steadfast uniform of his fellow side. In their place was an elegant suit of midnight black, accompanied by a medium blue shirt and, of course, his tie. Roman wondered if Logan would have worn that suit in the courtroom, if he had been allowed to join in. And if he had, would it carry the same power? Would he have worn it with that reserved, yet somehow arrogant expression that went straight to Roman's knees? Or would he have found a way to look even more attractive with determined fury, that directed intensity that was so frustrating when combated head on but so, so _sweet_ when allowed to run its course.

Lightning ran through Roman's vein's as a calloused, cool hand met his own. When had he walked closer? When had he moved at all? But perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised- Logan was a magnet, designed specifically to attract him and pull him wherever Logan wanted him to go.

"Hello, Roman," Logan greeted. His voice was smooth velvet, and it wrapped around Roman like a jacket. There was nothing better than to sink into it, be carried away by a river of calm control, and let someone else decide what to do.

"Please _._ "

For all his epic poems and long-winded comments, there was no spiel he could give that night. Perhaps it was his surprise, the sneaky little thing. Or his need to not make decisions until his brain sat right-side up again. Or it was his need for Logan himself that silenced his voice. Whatever it was, as his knees hit the carpet, there was only one word he could possibly say.

" _Please."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like me to make a Tumblr where y'all could send requests or ask for continuations of a certain ficlet, please comment below. I'm definitely planning to be more active and update more!


	3. Random Logince Situation: Kind of more of a character study, oops

If anyone knew what Roman did on weekends, kneeling for a man and letting his hands rest in his hair (not to mention the countless other things they did together), those people would certainly ask _why_. What was so appealing about being taken control of, of letting someone else make the rules and following their lead? He would, if he had to explain despite his crushing embarrassment, likely say that it is about how they both enjoyed the activities, that he got as much as he gave, that it did not feel like giving up when _he_ took the reins. 

He would not mention that he loved the fight just as much as the submission. 

It would start with defensive words, snapped retorts, glares not-so-hidden behind fire-red bangs. It would start with a challenge, a provocation, anything that would make Logan _move_ to put him in his place. He had cementing a long time ago that Logan was more than welcome to slam him against the wall for disobeying. And oh, did he, with a growl and a too-calm retort in a too-low tone of voice that made him _weak_. 

Words, feelings, thoughts, images- they all buzzed in his head as constant chatter, never leaving him in peace. But he could not focus on them when the heat rose, when his determination was distilled into a will to fight _back_ , when someone else was _proving_ they were better to be the one in control. 

He would most certainly not explain any of this, at all- After all, there was no way he would explain that he liked to be dragged down and restrained with his partner's tie without dying of embarrassment.

Thankfully, he never had to explain any of it, yet.

_Yet._


End file.
